Even though her feet had already slid down and slipped into her slippers, Zhou Mi still refused to yield: “You have hands to make a phone call, but no hands to open the door?”

Zhang Lian said, “My hands are busy calling you, how can I open the door?”

“Oh, I’m coming.” Zhou Mi’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she put down her phone and walked toward the entrance, uncomfortably tugging at the dark green leaf of a rubber tree plant along the way.

Opening the door revealed Zhang Lian standing tall, his white shirt clean and crisp, not looking travel-worn at all.

He wore a smile and was indeed carrying several items: a black briefcase and a dark green gift bag with gold patterns.

He looked at her intently, neither speaking nor moving, just standing outside the door watching.

Zhou Mi’s cheeks warmed slightly. For a second or two, a feeling close to anticipation flickered vaguely. She felt Zhang Lian was waiting for something, or rather, they were both waiting for something. Finally, she forced herself to come to her senses, pressed her lips together, and stepped aside.

Zhang Lian walked in a couple of steps and handed her the gift bag: “For you.”

Zhou Mi was startled, took it, and said Thank you.

He passed by her to change his shoes. Zhou Mi stood there awkwardly watching, unconsciously holding her breath.

Only when he went to the bathroom to wash his hands as usual did Zhou Mi puff out her cheeks and let out a long breath, placing the slightly heavy gift bag on the coffee table.

She untied the matching satin ribbon on the bag and peeked inside, discovering several wooden gift boxes. She couldn’t immediately tell what they contained.

Hearing Zhang Lian turn off the water, Zhou Mi quickly straightened up and looked toward him again.

The man came out with his sleeves half-rolled up, revealing clearly defined forearms. As he walked toward the kitchen, he glanced over and asked: “Have you looked at the things?”

Zhou Mi shook her head: “Not yet.”

She asked: “Have you had dinner?”

“I have.” Zhang Lian went behind the counter to pour water, his Adam’s apple moving as he drank nearly half a glass.

He seemed to have a bit of OCD in his living habits, always doing two things after coming home: cleaning his hands and drinking purified water.

He put down the glass and looked up: “Why do you keep looking at me?”

Zhou Mi’s gaze darted away nervously, her words not matching her thoughts: “Maybe because you’re the only moving object in the room.”

He smiled, walking over: “Open them and see.”

The living room in Zhang Lian’s home was really large, requiring a step or two to walk from the coffee table to the sofa. Zhou Mi simply sat down by the coffee table and took out the various-sized gift boxes.

Each wooden box had a gilded logo in traditional Chinese characters, along with a small, dense address printed on it.

All were brought back from Hong Kong, from the same store.

Zhang Lian also sat down beside her, very close, leaning against the gray velvet sofa.

If she made even a slightly larger movement, her arm would brush against his.

Zhou Mi’s heart beat faster, and she couldn’t help but shrink her shoulders, restraining herself as she pried open the metal clasp on the wooden box.

She first chose the smallest one. As soon as she lifted the lid, her eyes fixed on what was inside—a very eye-catching pair of earrings, with milky deep-sea pearls hanging beneath golden rabbits.

The craftsmanship was exquisite; even the pea-sized rabbits were carved with a textured fur effect.

So cute, such good taste. She silently exclaimed, turning to look at Zhang Lian with sparkling eyes.

The man raised his thick eyebrows slightly, gesturing for her to continue.

Zhou Mi opened the others: a complete set of wooden stamps engraved with nightingales, leaves, and stars and moons; white scented candles with floral relief patterns; Little Prince and rose coin key chains…

Excitement built up until she pulled out the largest wooden box, opened it from the side, and found an exceptionally elaborate Pinocchio antique music box. A white-bearded old man manipulating the long-nosed puppet stood in the center, with a violin-playing bear and a top-hatted dog positioned on the left and right.

“This is too beautiful!” Zhou Mi finally couldn’t help but burst out.

She took it out with both hands, slowly rotating it to carefully appreciate it from all angles, then raised it above her head to examine the base structure: “Does it need batteries?”

Zhang Lian said, “It’s wind-up.”

Zhou Mi looked closer, but the background pattern of the music box was so intricate that the position of the wind-up key wasn’t immediately obvious, making it a bit difficult to find.

Seeing this, Zhang Lian leaned forward and pointed to show her where it was.

Zhou Mi solemnly turned the brass key several times.

The cup-sized box theater immediately came to life, becoming animated. The music tinkled as if enacting a miniature fairy tale.

Zhou Mi handled it carefully, gently placing it at the edge of the coffee table, and poked the little puppet’s nose with her index finger: “This Pinocchio’s nose isn’t that long.”

Zhang Lian looked at it for a moment, then his gaze returned to Zhou Mi. From this angle, he could see part of her eyelashes, which appeared like translucent goose down in the light.

She was like a little girl seeing a Barbie doll for the first time, still excitedly talking to herself: “He must rarely tell lies.”

Zhang Lian asked: “Does the nose grow longer when you lie?”

Zhou Mi replied: “Yes, to transform from a puppet into a real child, you must resist temptation and learn to be honest. If you keep lying, your nose will grow longer and longer.”

Zhang Lian laughed without responding.

Zhou Mi felt his laugh had deeper meaning and turned to mock him: “If that magic were applied to you, your nose would be longer than the Oriental Pearl Tower by now.”

Zhang Lian was silent for a moment, then called her name: “Zhou Mi.”

Zhou Mi turned back to look at him again.

Zhang Lian’s expression was calm: “Do you think I’m a person who tells lie after lie?”

Zhou Mi tilted her head: “Aren’t you?”

He raised his thick eyebrows slightly: “Then let me say something, and you judge whether it’s true or false?”

Zhou Mi nodded: “Okay, go ahead.”

He looked at her, almost without thinking: “I want to kiss you right now.”

Like a water bottle exploding from within, Zhou Mi’s heart leaped in shock, and an unexpected heat immediately spread across her chest, rapidly permeating her limbs and body.

Her cheeks and ears flushed red.

The spring unwound, the music stopped abruptly, and the entire living room sank into pure silence.

But Zhou Mi couldn’t look away; the man’s eyes absorbed her like a brown swamp.

The moisture in her mouth seemed to recede. Zhou Mi swallowed hard, stammering: “I don’t—I don’t want to.”

Zhang Lian curved his lips, certain: “Your nose just grew longer.”

Zhou Mi reflexively raised a hand to touch her nose: “No, it didn’t…”

Her wrist was quickly moved away, and at the same time, her field of vision darkened rapidly like a light being switched off, as the man’s body and breath engulfed her.

Zhou Mi’s lips were sucked once, neither light nor heavy, very moist and warm, also lingering.

Her eyes widened, her defenses collapsed violently, and she almost couldn’t sit steadily. Zhang Lian supported her back, pressing her back down.

His face remained very close to hers, the emotion in his eyes so concentrated it was like dense clouds before a downpour, blocking out the sky and sun, leaving nowhere to escape.

He raised his hand to lightly control her chin, caressing with his thumb as if coaxing: “If you don’t refuse, I’ll continue.”

As he spoke, his beautifully shaped mouth seemed to cast a spell.

Zhou Mi’s eyes reddened at the corners, an irrepressible desire spreading within her, like an instinct unique to him that could easily be stimulated and mobilized.

Zhang Lian didn’t rush to kiss her lips, but leaned in and pecked her nose.

The gesture was gentle but unexpected. Zhou Mi sensitively made a sound, her fingertips turning white as they sank into his shirt.

Zhang Lian smiled, moved down, and captured her lips, unhurriedly deepening the kiss. She became like a hard candy with a liquid center, slowly melting in his patient lips and tongue, the fruit-flavored filling spilling out.

Zhou Mi couldn’t help but moan.

Zhang Lian’s kiss gradually became surging, powerfully invading and ravaging. The sound of their clothes rubbing grew louder, and their breathing quickened to the brink of being out of control.

Zhou Mi had to wrap her arms around his neck.

The trajectory of his breath expanded—behind her ears, her neck… Zhou Mi’s back was occasionally pressed against the edge of the sofa. As she tilted her head back in unbearable pleasure, her soft hair repeatedly brushed through the gray velvet. One of his hands had already gripped her waist, lingered there for a moment, then moved up, burning hot.

The overhead light occasionally flickered in her vision, creating oxygen-deprived confusion and dizziness.

Like being swept into a hot sea, she needed to hold her breath and then breathe again constantly to avoid losing her life in his hands.

Suddenly, her chest was released, and rationality and oxygen returned. Zhou Mi pushed him away as if waking from a dream.

Zhang Lian stopped his movements, withdrew his right hand from behind her, and placed it back on the ground. His upper body still remained at close distance: “What’s wrong?”

His eyes were extremely dark. Zhou Mi avoided his gaze, making up an excuse randomly: “I haven’t showered.”

Zhang Lian smiled, with a bit of undisguised mischief in his smile: “I haven’t showered either.”

Zhou Mi nervously glanced toward the balcony and mumbled: “My thesis… isn’t finished yet, my computer is still outside…”

Zhang Lian stared at her for a while, lightly pinched her nose, withdrew from her presence, and stood up to walk toward the kitchen.

Zhou Mi took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She was like a piece of wood just pulled from the fire, her entire body scorching hot.

She quickly refastened the hooks on her back, pulled down her hem, collected the gifts back into the wooden boxes and paper bag, and quickly fled to the balcony.

—

Zhou Mi stared blankly at the dense black text on the screen, her emotions still trembling within her body like aftershocks that the night wind couldn’t disperse or chase away.

In the middle of this, Zhang Lian came by once. He poured her a glass of warm water and placed it beside her laptop.

Zhou Mi didn’t dare to look at him directly, only following him with her peripheral vision as he walked away.

Fortunately, he didn’t speak to her either.

Zhou Mi took a sip of water, opened WeChat on her computer, and messaged her friend, channeling Thomas the Tank Engine: woo woo woo woo woo woo woo woo.

He Miaoyan, having figured out the pattern, replied as usual: Tell me, what did Zhang Lian do again?

Zhou Mi: I almost lost my defense today.

He Miaoyan: Oh?

Zhou Mi: This man is damnably tempting.

He Miaoyan:?

Zhou Mi: His skills are still as good as ever.

He Miaoyan: ??

Zhou Mi: Now I feel a bit guilty.

He Miaoyan: ???

Zhou Mi propped her head up, pouting as she typed: How can this be happening?

He Miaoyan, unable to bear it any longer: I’m begging you both, just do it already.

—

Today, she didn’t encounter Zhang Lian while washing up. Zhou Mi felt a bit relieved, yet also somewhat disappointed, as she looked around cautiously before sneaking back to her bedroom.

The large bag of gifts was still placed at the foot of the bed.

Zhou Mi paused, lowered her eyes, and slowly took out the Pinocchio music box, sitting back on the carpet, cradling it in both hands.

She wound the spring as far as it would go before placing it quietly on the ground, facing her. The clear melody flowed out, like stars twinkling in her eardrums.

Zhou Mi listened silently, her mind full of the night’s events.

Indescribable emotions surged in her heart, making her suddenly want to giggle, then immediately pout, on the verge of tears.

She took out her phone from her pajama pocket and opened the pinned chat in WeChat.

She wondered if she should say something to Zhang Lian to reasonably explain her reaction earlier.

Forget it. She exited and turned off the screen.

Still restless, after a moment, Zhou Mi unlocked her phone and returned to WeChat, beginning to type.

She input “————————————————” eight dashes in a row, sent it, and revealed her heart: My nose is this long tonight.

She waited anxiously for a while.

There was a reply.

The sense of sourness completely disappeared. Zhou Mi’s face instantly flushed red, and she nearly jumped up from the ground to bounce around like a crazy rabbit for three circles, then lock herself in the freezer to cool down.

Zhang Lian: Mine too.

Zhang Lian: I don’t just want to kiss you.